


Jocasta Tyrranus

by Shadow_Belle



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: F/M, Implied Sibling Incest, M/M, hints at het relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-04
Updated: 2011-11-04
Packaged: 2017-10-25 17:14:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/272773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Belle/pseuds/Shadow_Belle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A glimpse into Tricia's pscyhe. DantexVergil implied. Hints at het</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jocasta Tyrranus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Auntarctica](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Auntarctica).



My memory is now a thinning ether, much like that from whence I came. Would that I could remember more of that effervescent nothingness. Hands, cold and marble, willing my flesh to take form, willing my essence to become.

Awareness was constant, as I had always been, I would always be, but my temporal form had changed and with it, came the knowledge of things that were peripheral, an existence of want, need, pain…things that I’d never had.

But they became part of me then, child of mine.

Oh would that you had ever really been mine, would that I’d held you inside of me, that only for a moment, your perfection had belonged to me.

I knew nothing then, nothing of the ways of men or devils. I was innocent and empty. And through His magnificence, I was full. Full of this want of you, full of this need to offer you succor at my breast. And then I was full of you- your body punishing me for Mundus’ trespass. But I was a willing penitent, my son. For I did give you succor in your time of need, and I carry that with me still.

It’s your hands that willed my flesh into existence, your will that shaped me, the burn of your touch has marked me, and you’ve marked yourself my creator. You have become my father, my brother, my son- my lover.

All things are found in you.

When I’m alone, in this darkness, I still remember. There’s a vivid clarity to my memory now as I think of you, Vergil. It’s a stain, a surrealistic kiss of being and it’s superimposed over the entirety of my essence. I won’t claim a soul, because I don’t know what’s inside me, there’s only you.

Only Vergil. Only liquid fire pouring over me, burning, but it’s cold. It’s cold, Vergil, because it’s your touch, your mouth, your hands pushing my face against the chilled surface of that wall, perhaps so you didn’t have to bear my face- but that doesn’t matter.

There was a moment there, when your hips thrust against me, when you were mine. You were inside me as you were always meant to be, and I think that omnipresence was pleased. All knowing and all seeing, perhaps. But when you were fucking me, Vergil, doing things to me that no son should be able to contemplate, even in twisted effigy, that didn’t matter either. The whole world could have been on fire, existence is transient, and what moments I had as this being, it was enough to have had you.

But I never really had you, did I?

Even then I knew that you belonged to the other. He was your other half, fire to ice, night unto day, and life to death.

I still wonder what will happen when you both give into your polarity. I think there will be an explosion such as the Universe has never seen- you will be a galaxy, a dimension unto yourselves, Sons of Sparda.

Dante, the fire, he belongs inside of your snowy eternity- to absorb him like so much water into a cracked desert. That which was twain, must be made whole again. And may the darkness bleed for you as I have. As I would.

Your eyes softened to me once, Vergil. I do not hope for it again. I don’t want your pity. I know how you see me, a pawn in the celestial game.

But I’m not.

I can hear you laughing at my denial, to you, I am still that newly formed design of torture, a realization of a misinterpretation, but a child in the ways of the world.

To be or not to be, is not the question, because I have no fear of what lurks beyond.

I am what is past that veil of dust and shadow.

But I will stay here. With you. When eternity ends, and the last star blinks out into nothing, I will still be in the darkness, and then I will hold you.


End file.
